Sent Me Flying
by elitemassacre6
Summary: Sometimes, when she's alone, Santana wonders how her curiosity towards a certain short-statured, often highly opiniated, and always beautiful brunette has gone unnoticed.
1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, when she's alone; Santana wonders how her curiosity towards a certain short-statured, often highly opiniated, and always beautiful brunette has gone unnoticed. She almost can't believe it really. She _is_ alone a lot. All the time really, now that her best friend has taken her heart and crushed it under her heel. That's not to say that she herself is still so freshly broken over it. Occasionally she wonders if that's because she wasn't as in love as she thought she was, or if it has more to do with the fact that after the life Santana's had up to this point, it isn't so easy to tear her down. No matter that it sometimes feels like people are trying pretty hard to do exactly that.

Regardless, she only thinks about it so much because Quinn spends so much fucking time watching Rachel and anyone else who pays a large amount of attention to her. It never used to bother her, but now she's starting to be annoyed by the fact that Quinn acts like she owns Rachel in her own way, without ever doing anything about it. She treats the star exactly the same way Finn tends to. Like a toy she doesn't want to play with right now but that belongs to her regardless.

She doesn't know what it is about the Inn's (Finn and Quinn) that makes them treat human beings like disposable inanimate objects but Santana Lopez is not a fan of it at all. God knows she isn't an angel, but the Latina at least made sure to treat people like people. Now that she thought of it though, Rachel might disagree given her antagonistic tendencies towards the younger girl but she'd been changing...or you know...trying to. She was positive that counted for something.

Her growing contempt for Quinn and infatuation with Rachel came to a head one late Friday afternoon in early April. The whole club was in the auditorium after Puck and Sam had performed some Springsteen for that week's stupid whiteboard assignment of songs with USA in the title. Their so called teacher was seriously stretching it.

"That was great, guys. I was really impressed with your energy in that performance, both of you."

"The Puckasaurus has got bottomless energy. Stamina, bro, stamina." The Latina rolled her eyes but didn't dispute his accurate claims, waving her hand for Mr. Shue to keep it rolling.

"Anyway guys that was the last performance for this assignment and I think you all were amazing. I've got another exciting assignment for next week starting Monday and I thought if I gave it to you now you could all get started working on it!" Santana barely heard the low, grumbly growl that emanated from their star performer, looking down one row below her to notice the way the girl's grip on her armrests turned her fingers just barely white at their tips.

"Mr. Shuester don't you think it's inappropriate for us to continue with these assignments? I think they're as fun as everyone else does but we're a month and a quarter away from Nationals and we've yet to even discuss song choices, choreography, or anything at all important. This is important, this is a nationwide competition featuring talent far beyond what we've yet to face. We need to discuss these things if we hope to win against teams who have no doubt been preparing since they received word that they would be heading to New York for the competition. I've mentioned this before and you dismissed it but we've no more time to waste singing Queen songs and Motown classics." When the beautiful girl paused to lean back in her chair, Santana clapped for her pointedly before leaning down to give a quick but gentle squeeze to Rachel's shoulder.

"I totally agree. She's right. If any of us know exactly what we should we be doing up to this kind of competition it's Rachel. I mean she's won more singing, dancing, and acting trophies than Sue has in her trophy room." She looked around, showing her poker face to Quinn when the blonde looked over at her, raising her trademark eyebrow. Shuester went to speak but was interrupted by a pissed off looking Mercedes who stood up and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I disagree. Rachel only wants us to hurry with deciding what we'll do so she can weasel her way into the solo spot once again. And she's wrong anyway, we have almost two months not a month and a quarter."

"Rachel meant that a performance should be done and perfected at least two to three weeks before the showing itself." Santana spoke up again, nodding a little when Rachel turned around and curved her lips just enough for the Latina to count it as a smile. She nodded at the shorter brunette, setting herself back into her seat, ready to defend the star against anyone else who said some stupid shit. She didn't miss the glare aimed her way from the blonde who sat at least ten seats over, hazel eyes shifting between the two brunettes as if looking for something that wasn't there.

"Guys, we'll get to that, this club isn't just about winning, it's about us having fun too. For example, singing Queen songs for next week and Motown classics the week after." Rachel just rolled her eyes.

"What mister Shue said. You shouldn't be so excited for Nationals anyway. I'm getting that solo. I already talked to him about it. And hell... you aren't as good as you think you are anyway, toucan Sam." Santana's eyes went wide and she looked over at Quinn, waiting for her to say...something...to defend the person she obviously thought of as hers. When the blonde did nothing she gripped her hands into fists, hopping over the empty seat next to Rachel's to stand behind the girl.

"Honestly, Berry she's right on all counts. You aren't as good as you think you are." The Latina standing behind the shorter brunette heard something that sounded vaguely like a growl rise up from her own throat, stepping closer to her girl and laying her palm against the small of her back as a sign of support. If Quinn wouldn't defend and support her, she sure as hell would.

"Oh fuck you, tubbers! Rachel's beyond good. Hell, you wouldn't know phenomenal...which she is.. if it bit you on your stretch mark covered white ass." Santana could feel Rachel flinch just the slightest bit as her comment filled the air around them, and she really couldn't figure out why.

"If Rachel Berry is phenomenal I'm Beyonce." Mercedes spit out.

"Yeah...well if I'm not as talented as I think I am then you aren't a self important, lazy, overweight, tator tot addicted piece of fucking shit with a superiority complex." The entirety of the auditorium went quiet for a few long seconds, everyone's eyes as wide as they had ever been. Santana removed her hand from Rachel's back and slid it into her smaller one. She was well aware of how much the girl would begin to probably regret the words as soon as they left her perfect lips. Hurting people wasn't her thing.

"Oh, shit." Puck said, shaking his head in his disbelief that his Jewish american princess had just said that. She was never one to give as good as she got in the insult department. Walking away and taking the highroad was literally her motto.

"Rachel that was completely unnecessary. Bullying someone about their body or anything else is not okay in this club. Apologize to Mercedes now and then...then I think you should report to Figgins." Santana's mouth dropped open. This asshole...

"What?" Puck questioned, this dude had to be kidding.

"No, you know what, fuck that. You sack of-" Rachel squeezed her hand to cut her off, turning one of the meanest glares the Latina had ever seen on Quinn, Mercedes, and then Mr Shue.

"Let me attempt to understand the situation clearly here. Mercedes the whiner and Quinn the bitch can both insult me, my nose, my talent, and whatever else they so choose, and it's fine. But when I return their abhorrent behavior it is called bullying? It's something worth being sent to the useless excuse of a principle for? You know what William Shuester...You can fuck off and stick her apology up your ass for all I care. I. Fucking. Quit. I hope all three of you get what you truly deserve." Rachel made to leave in her classic storm out, only realizing when she turned to pass Santana that their hands were still linked. She looked down at them, smiled wryly for a moment, before pulling her hand free walking into the aisle.

"Wait, i'm sorry, Ru Paul what did you just call me?" Quinn stood up as if finally noticing that she'd been insulted. Shuester said nothing about the insult that still seemed to fall so easily from the former head Cheerio's lips as she approached the smaller girl. The brunette turned around and smiled in a frighteningly painful way that Santana had never seen before, the star catching her eyes for a fleeting moment before she stared up at Quinn with no fear in her auburn eyes.

"I said, Quinn Fabray, that you are a self involved, sadistic, hard to love, uncaring, hollow, using bitch!" Rachel turned again to leave but the blonde put a hand on her shoulder to try to twist her back around. Rachel resisted and Santana approached, crossing around to be standing just a couple feet away from them, her eyes locking once again with the former glee captain.

"Hard to love? that's funny coming from you, you fucking troll! Who could ever love you?!" Rachel seemed to almost break, tears starting to fall from her eyes for the few seconds before she turned around and connected her open palm with the blonde's face in a seriously effective slap. Quinn fell immediately, knocked out of balance with that one scarily accurate slap that hit just under her temple.

"Fuck you Quinn! Fuck you!" Rachel stormed her way out of the auditorium, seeming to be barely holding it together. Santana wasted only a few seconds looking down at Quinn before she ran after the Jewish girl, sprinting up to the second floor girl's bathroom she knew the girl would be in. She got there and slapped her hand against the door just as Rachel was about to close and probably lock it as well.

"Hey. Rachel wait. Let me in, please. For reals I just want to help." The silent brunette just opens the door wider without saying anything, shutting and locking it behind them both. She wipes her wet cheeks with her sleeve for a minute or so before turning around. Santana is already waiting there with soft eyes and some of those wet make up remover wipes and steps closer, very gently gripping where her girl's jaw meets her neck and reaches up with the opposite hand, starting to clean away the running mascara and ruined eyeliner. The whole eye deal was definitely a new look Rachel was trying out and even though she looked just as beautiful as Santana wiped it all away it had looked amazing on her, bringing a sharp new focus to her auburn eyes.

"I'm um...I'm really sorry about what happened in there. You were totes right about us needed to stop fucking around and get down to business for nationals like ages ago. I just don't think he understands how much we all want to win. To like, I don't know have validation for all the shit we've gone through, all the shit we've all sacrificed for the club. Losing sometimes makes it feel like it's all for nothing. Plus I know some of them, like Kurt, Artie, and Tina have never really won anything like this so it's a huge deal for them. And really Rachel I honestly think he didn't mind them saying that shit to you because he somehow hoped maybe they would put you down enough to get you to be less vocal about the reality of our situation and about the club in general. He obviously doesn't know you at all. Rachel Berry don't take shit lying down unless she's taking the high road, right?"

The Latina tossed the first wipe and grabbed another, switching hands to clean the right side of Rachel's face. The smaller girl had her eyes closed and had been silent since they'd both left the auditorium.

"I know you're not okay . So I won't ask you that. What happened with Quinn was beyond fucked up and I'm just starting to realize that it probably affected you more than I thought it would've. Quinn has always acted like she thought you were hers and I used to think that was just her being her normal arrogant self. Until today. Today I'm thinking maybe you have been hers all along. And maybe you love her. I think you were sure she loved you. I don't know if she ever said it or if you just knew... But, yeah." The tears were falling again and Santana longed to be the sap she really was and kiss them away but she settled for wet paper towel instead.

"I don't mean to hurt you by bringing all this up again but I just think it's important that you know that she was wrong. You are so completely worth the love of anyone who's smart enough to really look at you. Not just because you're really pretty but beyond that.. Like into your heart or you know... Whatever. So, yeah... You're lovable." The clear faced brunette finally opened her eyes, displaying that startling color somewhere between red and brown."

"Santana... Who are you today? Who have you been for the last two months?". The Puerto Rican shook her head, finally starting away to put some space between them.

"As far as you are concerned I'm really no one. As far as I know I'm still who I've been. Still Santana Anita Lopez. And anyway I don't matter. I just wanted you to know the truth. Anything else you need? Because I would fucking love to go kick Mercedes' ass for you."

"I could do that myself. And what are you insinuating? That I'm too conceited to be concerned about other people? I'll have you know that I am in fact concerned about other individuals." The Latina nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets. She honestly did not know what to do with them. With everyone else they crossed her chest defensively. She was usually touching Brittany. Or, at least that's how it used to be. She couldn't touch the girl in front of her like she wanted to, so in her pockets would have to suffice.

"Yeah, I'm under that impression. And that's not what I meant. I was saying that you're in pain right now and I'm here to help you, not the other way around. I mean that I'm not important right now... You are. So whatever you need I'll take care of it. Like for example...I can go fetch you some of that dairy free mocha ice cream you like and we can put on and watch Dr who or fringe, or the x files. And I'll order pizza from Giovanni's for dinner. I fucking know I'm going to need to try and forget the fact that I just quit what was usually my favorite part of the day.". Santana swore being around Rachel had her speaking in super long paragraphs.

"What do you mean? I quit, not you."

"Uh, yeah I did. That was the point of me running out of the auditorium after you did that cute diva storm out thing you do whenever Shue pisses you off enough."

"What do you want from me really? Whatever this is that you're doing or trying to do right now, I need you to stop please. Supporting and defending me in there, assisting me in here... Offering to acquire my favorite foods, these are things that friends do. If this is your way of insinuating you want that with me through actions and not words I am not opposed. But I need some time to process everything that just occurred. Maybe...maybe we can arrange to have the pizza you offered at a later date. You know, after I go through the obligatory 'I just went through a breakup' grieving process." The excited smile she'd been wearing slipped from Santana's lips and she shrugged, nodding along as Rachel let her down easy.

"No, yeah I totally understand. I'll just um... I'll go. I'm sorry about what happened with Q, I hope you'll be okay." She gazed into those auburn eyes once more before walking around the girl they belonged to and exiting the bathroom. God, nothing hurt like rejection. Even, and sometimes especially, when it was soft handed.


	2. Chapter 2

God, she felt so pathetic. Santana had spent her entire weekend in bed watching sappy movies and pigging out on ridiculous amounts of popcorn, maybe even crying into her pillows a little, though she'd deny the hell out of it if her Abuela asked her about it again. It was true that her grandmother, Elma, was the one person she felt safe telling essentially everything to. Everything including this. She didn't doubt for a second that her parents would abandon her if they ever knew she was gay, but Alma Lopez was different. She was Santana's greatest supporter. Her only supporter.

Anyway, to be honest she was a little afraid of seeing either Rachel or the three complete assholes that had made the star cry just three days ago. She wasn't entirely sure she would be able to keep Snixx on her already short leash around those three pendejos. And Santana had no idea how she would deal with seeing Rachel in the three classes they shared together today. Maybe avoiding her would be the best bet.

The last thing she wanted was for her hobbit to see that recently ever present sadness in her eyes and draw conclusions she wasn't ready for anyone to reach.

Anyway, like Abuela always told her she could focus on school. Maybe Santana could even switch her free period for a sculpture class at the Lima community college. With her grades she was sure Ms. Pillsbury would be cool letting her do it. It had been months since she'd shown anyone anything she was making in her abuelo's glass studio.

Yea, she could do that. In fact maybe she could completely disregard everything her Parents demanded of her and focus on her art as a career. It was worth thinking about later, when she wasn't in the process of an important ap calc exam. Thankfully this was one of the two classes today that she didn't share with Rachel Berry.

In ten minutes class would be over though, and she'd be sitting down for two hours of ap anatomy with Rachel in the seat next to her. She didn't even want to think about the fact that she knew there'd be a sub, and therefore a stupid video for them to watch. So she'd spend two hours doing nothing but wishing she hadn't been so stupid and hasty in deciding to take the vacant seat next to Rachel two weeks ago.

Now, despite the fact that she still wanted to be as close to the star as possible, she didn't want to look up and have Rachel just dismiss her again. God, that had felt like every missed birthday and uninterested hum her parents had ever given her.

And as much as she knew she deserved this kind of treatment from a long list of people (with Rachel at the top), Santana could not help but realize how much it hurt because it was Rachel. She felt so...dispensable. Like she was just this peripheral person existing on the barren outskirts of people's lives.

And sometimes she wondered...would anyone even notice if she disappeared tomorrow? And if they did, would they care? Would they celebrate? Thanking god that she finally got rid of herself the way they had always wanted to?

It wasn't like she thought about killing herself or something. Well, you know, not often. Just when her parents or even Brittany made her feel like it would be so much better if she weren't around.

Don't get her wrong, Brittany would never tell her she wished she weren't around. Not intentionally. It was just something she said a week or so after Santana had told her that she loved her.

()

"Britt please, just break up with Artie, I love you. I wanna be with you. I don't even care about hiding anymore. If you want us to tell everyone in the whole fucking town that I love you with all my heart I will. Just...be with me, baby, please." The blonde just bit down on her lip and frowned, fidgeting on her feet. It did nothing to ease the worry that Santana couldn't get a hold on.

"I just don't know, San. I got with him to make you jealous but I love him too, I told you that. And he feels the same way. And...and he gets insecure about the way I feel about him because of our history and the way you tricked me into cheating on him with you. I wish this had never gotten so complicated. I wish I didn't have to choose."

"The problem, B, is that by not choosing at all you are choosing him. Fine. I just...I really hope he makes you happy, B. I really want that for you."

"He does." At that, Santana walked away, a few random kids looking surprised at the tears that were clearly visible falling down her cheeks. Britt wished it wasn't so complicated? Then she would remove herself from the equation. Her father had always said she was too complicated, too much to deal with. A handful. And her favorite, not worth the trouble. So she could get why Britt didn't want her around anymore. No one did.

()

The only person now who didn't make her feel that way was her abuela. Her abuela, who had found her that night with a crimson stained pocket knife in one limp hand and blood leaking from the long vertical cut she'd made into the skin of the opposite wrist. Thankfully, it wasn't very deep, but when she'd awoken, the old Puerto Rican woman had looked at her like she'd tried to steal her prized possession.

For months afterward she would walk past her Abuela's room at night and hear her praying to Jesus to please save her Santanita. She had stopped hearing it, but she didn't think her grandmother had stopped doing it. After all, she hadn't stopped praying for herself.

The ringing of a bell brought her out of her head and Santana looked up to find the whole class fleeing through the door, leaving her behind to stand, gather her stuff, and then walk up to her teacher Mrs. Yates. The kind woman took her test and set it on top of her grading pile, giving the Latina a worried look.

"Are you okay Santana? I know you, so I know it didn't affect your test, but you were completely in your own mind for half of the class." The brunette just shrugged, she wasn't positive telling her teacher what had her in such a melancholy mood wouldn't lead to horrible things.

"I'm just...not having the best day. But thank you for asking. You're the only teacher that ever does. I appreciate that you even care at all. I dont want to be late for my anatomy class, it's on the other side of the school, so I'll see you Wednesday Mrs. Yates. Bye." Santana left before anything else could be said, slipping through the hallways quick and unnoticed. She made it almost all the way to her classroom before the trouble found her in the form of one Quinn Fabray shoulder checking her hard as she turned a corner.

"The fuck is wrong with you, Bitch. Shit that hurt. Don't touch me again." The blonde's eyes were staring right into hers and that possessive fire was back behind them, but Santana paid it no mind, trying to walk past the psycho blonde and into her class.

"No, _you_ don't touch _her_. She's _mine_." Santana scoffed, pushing the bigger girl out of her personal space.

"Funny you say that, because last time I checked it's illegal to own people in this country. Not to mention I'm pretty sure you ruined any chance of her wanting to be yours anymore after what you said yesterday. I mean, what is _wrong_ with you? You and I both know she thinks that about herself, how could you reinforce that fear for her? Some kind of girlfriend you were. Now move. I have class asshole.

Quinn looked almost sad and remorseful for a second before she turned and walked away, but Santana believed it must have been a trick of the light. She walked into class and sat down at her seat which happened to be the only one available.

Rachel was busy pulling out her notes and the homework, so the Latina did the same, putting everything on her half of the desk and scooting her chair as far away as possible without ending up in the aisle. The sound made the shorter girl look up, head tilted in her confusion.

"Did you just move away from me?" Santana just nodded, tapping the eraser end of a pencil against her jean covered thigh.

"I don't understand? Why would you do that? I know I said I wanted space Friday, but I diidn't mean for you to change how things already were."

"You didn't ask for space, you rejected me. Just...really politely. Rachel Berry rejection. You're the master of letting someone down easy." Rachel frowned, her brows furrowing above those gorgeous eyes of hers.

"I think I'd remember If I'd rejected you...or rather your petition for a possible friendship."

"Yea, well that's what people mean when they say maybe later." She said, deep frown on her lips.

"It's not what I mean, Santana. I really did mean later. As in this weekend or the next."

"Oh..."

"Yes, oh. And they call me the dramatic one." She smiled softly at Santana, poking her shoulder childishly and pulling her chair closer with her in it.

"You are the dramatic one. It's cute." She admitted, sighing out her giddiness. Rachel didn't hate her. She hadn't rejected her. That felt...it felt good. They were going to have pizza together.


	3. Chapter 3

Maybe seeing Quinn looking sort of lost and forlorn hadn't been a trick of the imaginary light. The blonde seemed to be constantly switching between gazing after Rachel like a scorned, love sick puppy and glaring at Santana like it was her fault she'd said the things she had in the auditorium the day before. At least maybe she'd finally decided shoulder checking her wasn't the best course of action.

Rachel had been present for the second time, as the the two brunettes were leaving their second period classroom. The Latina's right shoulder still felt like she'd been run over by Karofsky or Azimio, but having Rachel stand with her at her locker rubbing it for her for a few minutes was worth the pain.

"I'm sorry. I can't believe she's behaving so childishly...attacking you as if it isn't her own behavior which got her into this situation to begin with. It's so asinine! I didn't even expect her to jump to my defense in front of everyone, you know. But helping them to tear me down is too much. And then for her to say what she did...She knows how insecure I am about that. She's the _only_ one who knows...how could she just throw my fears in my face like that?" Rachel shook her head, still working her fingers into the sore muscle of Santana's shoulder.

"She was wrong. I've told you that. Don't let the fact that it was her saying it force you to believe something that isn't true. There are so many things to love about you it's almost dangerous." The Latina let out, biting harshly on her lower lip to contain a moan as Rachel found and worked her fingers through the painful knot of muscle that had made sleeping so difficult the night before.

"Santana..." The shorter brunette dropped her hands and took a few measured steps away from her.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I _swear_ I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's not that...exactly. It's just unsettling. I've spent every day for as long as I've known you _knowing_ that you hate me. And now, along with a number of other things I thought I knew, I'm supposed to think that you don't hate me at all? And you keep saying these things and it's just...It's going to take me some time to be able to have you speak to me in that way without me second guessing and agonizing over the details the way I always do." The performer explained, her hands active and gesturing while she spoke, her maple eyes as earnest as ever.

"I _never_ hated you, Rachel. And I'll...I don't know try to censor myself or something if the things I say are making any of this harder on you. That's the last thing I want." Rachel nodded, stepping close enough to be within normal friendly conversational distance again.

"Now that you've inadvertently opened yourself up to the question, what exactly do you want? From me, I mean." Santana frowned, shrugging uncomfortably before she leaned back against her closed locker.

"I don't know what I want. I know...I know that I'm attracted to you, and that I like you as a person. I also know that I'm interested in you romantically, Rachel. Which is why I asked you to come hang out with me the other day. Not that I had any intention of taking advantage of your emotional state or being anything beyond my oh so friendly self. I just thought it would be an opportunity to get to know you even better without resorting to just watching you and listening when you speak. I was beginning to feel like a stalker or something." She kind of couldn't believe she'd just said all that. Way to just show the girl your hand, Lopez. Then again, it wasn't as if she was trying to keep any of this a secret at all. Still...She wondered if laying it all out that way would just make Rachel even more cautious around her than she already was.

The tiny singer had yet to even say anything and it had been at least a full minute since Santana had finished speaking. God, had she broken her? Maybe...maybe she should just go. Give her time to process or whatever? Class would be started in another five or so minutes and they didn't share it.

"Look, I'm sorry for the info dump, kay. But I think maybe we should both be heading to class. Thanks for the help with my back. I'll uh...I'll see you later."

"Wait...wait you can't tell me all of that and walk away." Rachel finally spoke, her voice finally raising above what had essentially been just a decibel above whispering. Now that she realized that's how they'd been speaking, she wondered why exactly that was. It'd been Rachel to start speaking after walking her to her locker.

Maybe...maybe it was a carryover from her relationship with Quinn. She could see that being the truth what with the blonde's unrelenting obsession with her reputation and keeping it as highly elevated as it could be at any given moment. And she knew that yea, talking to Rachel at all would hurt most anyone's reputation. Not to mention how it would be affected if observed and or heard speaking of the things she had been a few minutes before.

Not that she herself gave a flying fuck in relation to her own reputation and status. None of it had ever given her anything but the weight of expectation on her shoulders and guilt.

Anyway her point was she wasn't ashamed of the diva and she wouldn't make her feel as if she was. Unless she was wrong about why Rachel was whispering and occasionally glancing down the long corridor to see who might be near or coming their way.

"I've told you a lot of what I feel I need to, and you just stood there looking at me for a good minute or two before you said anything. I know you. If you'd had anything important to say you'd have done so. Imma go to class, and you'll probably do the same and when you've processed or made a decision or whatever it is you feel you need to do, Rachel...well I'll be waiting. In the meantime, you don't have to whisper and like...make sure the coast is clear or whatever with me. I don't care what anyone sees or hears so unless you do we don't have a problem."

"I don't...I'm not ashamed of you if that's what you think, Santana."

"I didn't really think you were, but good to know. I'm not ashamed of you either, tiny. I'm going to class, text me if you get any trouble from those three pedazos de mierda. I know your relationship with Quinn is yours to deal with, but she can be pretty violent when she's angry or feeling vulnerable. Be careful?" The bell finally rang and Santana looked down on the watch on her wrist before she shot Rachel a careful smile and walked off towards her class.

SRSRSRSRSR

As Santana slipped her backpack over her shoulders and stepped out of her wood shop class, she turned around to lock the door then checked her watch to see around what time it was. She'd spent what was probably around an extra half hour or so in her classroom after the other students and Mr. Haessler had gone. There was another good hour or so before her lunch started but that gave her around a two hours to relax and maybe even speak with Ms. Pillsbury before she had AP psychology with Rachel. As she started walking towards her locker she tried to remember if she'd seen what her Abuela had packed her for lunch but she didn't remember. Usually it was last night's leftovers, which she definitely loved. But now that she was considering it, she didn't remember eating last night.

She'd been so excited about just the possibility of Rachel wanting to hang out the night before either. Just as she was telling herself to remember to sit down for dinner that night, she was shoved hard into the lockers to the left of her. Her backpack took much of the abuse but the lock and handle of the locker she'd been shoved into dug painfully into her upper ribs.

Groaning, Santana turned and dropped her bag off of her shoulders, bring her hands up to ward off anymore potential attacks. When she saw who it was who pushed her, she sneered at the blonde bitch.

"You keep fucking with me and you're gonna realize just how short my temper is, puta."

"I thought I told you to stay away from her!" Her former captain's face was pink and her breathing heavy, she looked like she was a half step away from the edge.

"Yea, well...last time I checked you weren't exactly in a position of power over me. You don't give me orders, tubbers. And even if you were it wouldn't change anything. Why don't you stop playing the fucking victim for once, huh? _You_ did this to _her_. You fucked up your relationship. Not me and _definitely_ not Rachel." Quinn stepped closer, her characteristic brows furrowed over foggy green eyes.

"What the hell do you _think _you know?" The Latina laughed humorlessly, shaking her head.

"I know enough. And I'm not concerned with you and your god damned secrets, okay. That's one of the many many differences between us. So step off. I've got better shit to be doing. And better people to be doing it with." She kept her eyes on the blonde in front of her while she grabbed her bag then slipped it on.

"By the way, _Quinnie_. If you touch me again, I'll fuck up that _pretty pretty_ face of yours."

"Fuck you!"

"Oh I think not. I know short, leggy, mouthy brunettes are your type and all, but I'd _literally_ rather go play in traffic." Santana walked away backwards, only showing her back to Fabray once she'd turned the corner. She thought maybe it'd be a good idea to go eat her lunch in the auditorium where she could calm down.

Santana could easily understand what had ripped apart her friendship with her former captain, but thinking about it only ever made it so much worse. So instead, she unzipped her bag and reached in to grab her lunch. Despite it's lukewarm temperature, the aromas from the chicken mole in her tupperware container had her pretty instantly hungry. She sat back in her chair and dug in.

Despite all the negativity that had flooded the room just last Friday, Santana really loved the auditorium. Especially when it was empty and allowed her to snatch a few moments of the peace that silence guaranteed. In fact, maybe she'd nap for a little. Catch up on an hour or more of the sleep she'd been missing then head to Mrs. Pillsbury's office just before class to make an appointment or whatever. She set her phone to wake her up in an hour and fifteen minutes before kicking her feet up onto the chair in front of her.

SRSRSRSRSRSR

When Santana woke, her abused ribs were aching and she moaned out her pain, carefully standing and touching her fingers over where the pain was most present to try and see how bad it was. The skin was swollen so she knew it was also bruised. She frowned, swung her bag up onto her back, and turned to leave the auditorium, running straight into a smaller soft body when she walked out of the doors. The handle of the rolling pink bag Rachel used digging into the painful area over her ribs. She grunted in pain, her hand immediately going to cover the bruised skin.

"Oh , Santana, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention, I was about to text you and see if you wanted to spend lunch together. Hey, what's wrong, are you hurt?" Santana just nodded, removing her hand from her ribs, even touching gently caused great pain. When she finally looked up the look in Rachel's eyes told her the girl already made the correct assumption.

"_She _did this to you? How bad is it? I have some extra strength Tylenol in my bag and we can go to the nurses office to get an ice pack. I'm done letting her get away with hurting you. This game of hers is over. Come on, let's get you to the nurses office." Rachel gently took her hand and pulled her behind, pulling her the entire two minute trip to the nurse's office. Not that they had a nurse, but the supplies were there. Rachel motioned for her to take a seat before opening her bag and producing a bottle of water and a bottle of Tylenol. She handed Santana both then reached into the offices freezer to grab an ice pack, wrapped it in a towel and pressing it against Santana's left side.

"Thanks, you didn't have to help, Rachel. Her idiocy is hers, obviously. And I'm fine with her hurting me as long as she doesn't touch you. That, I couldn't deal with. Which, by the way, is a point I wanted to talk to you about." Rachel turned from returning the Tylenol to her bag, a questioning look on her face.

"What is it?"

"It's just that as much as I wish I'd never met her, I know Quinn to a certain level. And when she realizes you really have no intention of forgiving her and letting her come back to you she'll be pissed. Like more than you may have ever seen. I'm afraid she may get even more violent and while I have no problem with her taking her bullshit out on me I refuse to let her lay a malicious hand on you, and that's what I'm afraid of, Tiny. So just... If you feel unsafe or think she may be about to hurt you please call for me right away. I'll be there as soon as I can and I'll protect you."

"I'm a black belt. I can protect myself, Santana. But thank you for the concern." The Latina just grimaced as she pressed the ice tighter against her bruised skin, shaking her head.

"I know, and I'm not disagreeing with that, but what if she does to you what she did to me today? I don't think I could handle seeing you bruised and hurt because of her. Just... Please, Rachel? I don't know how to explain that I just need to know you're safe. _I care about you_, I don't want to see you hurt both physically and emotionally by her." Rachel just stared at her for a moment, gazing into her eyes. Santana was aware of how open she'd made herself.

"Alright."

"Really?"

"Yes, Santana, really. I promise." Honestly, the Latina could help the way she dropped her ice to launch forward and wrap her arms around Rachel, squeezing her for a few seconds before letting as the pain came back, she hissed, and pressed the ice back to her side.

"Thank you so much, Rachel. So, hey, did you eat lunch yet?" Rachel shook her head.

"No, I intended to eat in the auditorium, but-" She was cut off by the door that Rachel had shut behind them slamming open, prompting Santana to drop her ice and move to stand in front of Rachel. Quinn was standing there as the taller brunette had expected, looking more furious than Santana had ever seen her.

"You know, I thought that maybe the pain would get through your thick skull and remind you that I told you to stay away from what belongs to me, whore , I guess not. Perhaps you need more pain to remember. Maybe I should have broken your ribs instead." Santana could hear Rachel breathing heavily behind her, the shorter girl's hands palm forward against her shoulder. It managed to make her relax.

"I do NOT belong to you, Quinn Fabray. Even when we were together I was not some property you owned and I'm surely not now. Go away, you are not welcome here." Santana just watched as Quinn's jaw clenched and she stepped forward, expecting Santana to step back but frowning when she held her ground.

"Stay out of this, Rachel. I'll deal with you later." The content made Santana tense and her imagination run wild, coming up with horrifying images of events she couldn't let happen. The growl that tumbled from her lips next had Rachel rubbing her back soothingly.

"I won't let you hurt her. Leave." The chuckle that fell from the blonde's lips made Santana question where the sweet girl she'd meet when they were thirteen had disappeared to.

"Even if I did hurt her, she wouldn't oppose. Rachel likes it rough. Isn't that right, baby? Don't you moan the when I bite you, spank you over my knee? Shove my fingers deep inside you with barely a warning?" Santana's jealousy was chained down inside of her, begging her to make the bitch stop talking.

"That's different and you know it. That's all with _consent_." She managed to yell out, forcing down her jealousy again.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it, Right, Rachel? Did you tell her about the time you fell to your knees and begged me to do as I pleased with your body? How wet you were after I tied you to your bed and used the riding crop on your thighs?" So what Santana was getting from this was that Rachel was essentially a submissive, or at least partially. But that changed the point of view Santana had about the whole ownership thing between the two.

"Regardless, you are aware how this works. If she chooses to no longer submit to you, you have no ownership over her, if you ever did. Walk away, she is not yours, Quinn."

"And what, you think she'll be yours?" The hearty laugh Santana responded with seemed to shock both of the other girls in the room, and it took her almost a minute to settle down.

"I'm neither delusional nor an idiot. No matter how much I may want her in whichever way I want her, Rachel has exactly zero interest in me. What I'm doing is protecting her because you are so self centered that you cannot. Not only that, what's to say you won't turn that violent streak of your's toward her? I won't allow you to do that. Which mean's I'm here with her, protecting her, until you find the wonderful girl you used to be inside that desicated husk you think is a heart."

"I would never hurt her!" She seems outraged by the very idea, and you have every intention of correcting her when Rachel steps out from behind you to do it herself.

"You already have. You picked my largest insecurities and you used them to attack me. And now I spend too much time wondering if anything we had was real. I can't help but think that you never cared about me at all."Quinn stepped forward, the look in her hazel eyes devastated. You know that's exactly how the brunette just in front of you felt.

"Of course it was real, Rach. All of it. I'm so sorry. What did I do to us...Fuck! Listen, okay. I'm so sorry for always putting myself and my popularity first. I love you so much, Rachel. I really do, and I'm sorry it took all of this for me to finally tell you that. I need, I think I need to talk to my mom. I need help, Rachel." The shorter brunette just nodded, crying silently. She crossed the room to wrap her arms around her ex girlfriend, whispering words in her ear that Santana couldn't hear before they separated and Quinn wiped first Rachel's eyes and then her own. She turned and looked at Santana, shrugging like she didn't know what to do with herself before she walked closer.

"I'm sorry, San. I don't know what's wrong with me and I don't know who I am anymore. I've hurt you just as much as her. You were my best friend. I don't want to hurt the people I love anymore, San. It makes me feel like I'm just like him." Santana pulled her in to a tight hug, rubbing her back to calm her shaking and quiet sobs.

"You're nothing like him, Lucy. I won't let you be. Go home, get some help. If your mom won't help you know I've got you. It'll be okay, Luce. Go ahead, I'll get you excused." Quinn hugged her harder, whispering a clearly heard I love you into Santana's ear.

"I love you too, Lucy Q. You're my girl, you know that. "Santana placed a soft kiss against her old friend's forehead before the blonde turned and left the nurse's office, closing the door behind her.

"Will you be okay?" Rachel asked, looking emotionally exhausted as she took a seat in the office chair near a desk that used to hold a computer.

"Of course I will. I'm more worried about you. How are you feeling about everything that just went down? Do you need anything from me?" Rachel looked at her like she was seeing her for the first time, something she'd done quite a lot since the incident in the auditorium two days before.

"You really do care about me..." Was all she said, looking confused at the previously foreign concept.

"Yes, Rachel. I very much do. Is that okay?" The shorter girl stared into her eyes for a full minute and a half before she nodded.

"Can I just... Can you just hold me?" Santana smiled softly at her, taking a seat on the comfortable bed thing that she supposed all nurse's office held and patting her hand on it to indicate that Rachel should come lay down. The star did exactly that, curling into her and seeming to sink down into her comfortably.

"There we go, Rae, take a nap, I'll wake you for class."

"Hmmkay, thank you. You take such good care of me." Santana pulled out her phone and texted Brittany to cover for all three of them during the rest of the day, and that she'd probably see her tomorrow to explain the sitch.

In the meantime she had a lot to think about herself. For example she sent a prayer up for Quinn, asking God to bring her back to who she truly was. And for Rachel as well, to help her with her heartbreak. And even for herself. She prayed that god help her mind herself and be who Rachel needed instead of being selfish and trying to get the other brunette to feel for her the way she felt for her.

The information she'd learned today about Rachel potentially being a submissive didn't make her want the beautiful Estrella any less. In fact it made it worse. Now she couldn't help but close her eyes and imagine Rachel on her knees, willfully submitting to her. Trusting her to take of her, to have her best interests in mind, to give her pleasure she'd never felt before.

She snapped herself out of that train of thought when the door opened and Britt walked in, Artic rolling behind her, shutting the door behind him. She'd forgotten that she had told Britt where they were.

"How is she. And where did Quinn go?" It was Artie that asked, rolling forward to stop at the side of the bed, Britt plopping down in his lap.

"She's heart broken and confused, among other things. And Lu Q went to talk to Judy. She's finally going to get some help." Artie smiled at that. No matter how majorly dysfunctional and broken they all were, the club was a family and he loved all of them.

"Oh? That's really good. She needs it. What about you. Did you finally find out about Rachel being Quinn's sub and everything?" Santana bit her lip and nodded, her hand still running through Rachel's hair as the the small girl snored lightly. She was adorable, which was the exact opposite of surprising.

"And...?" Artie asked, curious enough to ask how the Latina felt about it. Britt told him everything, he knew there was a domme in Santana's heart.

"And what she needs right now is a friend, someone she can trust, someone who can care about her more than they care about themselves. That is exactly what I intend to give her. She deserves it. Besides, she isn't interested. Not in me." Both of the other two people in the room could hear the honesty and confidence in Santana's early statement, but when she mentioned Rachel not wanting her both could also hear the immense sadness salved over with resignation.

"Santana, did she say that?" Artie asked. Of course both he and Brittany knew Santana was wrong. Rachel was, or at least had been, at one point, interested. But the Latina didn't know that, and it wasn't their secret to tell.

"No...but I mean she's uncomfortable when I compliment her and she asked me to stop. And, you know, I have, but it isn't easy. Just look at her. She's so fucking beautiful, right?"

"Yes." Both Brittany and Artic said at the same time, kissing each other afterwards.

"You two are nauseatingly adorable. Anyway I should wake her, she hasn't eaten, so I'm gonnq take her for her favorite pizza and take her home. I know she's exhausted. You two wanna come along? On me?"

"I love how you ask that as if either of us has ever said no to pizza, Santana. It's ridiculous, right?" Artie nodded.

"She's right San. Free pizza is an easy yes." He said, watching as the Latina gently moved hair out of the sleeping star's face, rubbing her cheek.

"Hey, Rae wake up for me." Slowly, the smallest in the room awoke, looking up at Santana with a bit of confusion in her eyes.

"Hey there, gorgeous. Hungry?"

"San... Where, Tana?" She gripped onto the taller brunettes biceps, feeling safe with her despite having forgotten where they were for a moment.

"It's okay, We're in the nurses office, remember? We talked to Q and she went home to talk to her mom about getting help. You were tired, Rae, so I let you get some sleep, but you haven't eaten. We're all going go to Giovani's and I'm gonna get you you're favorite and we can talk some more if you'd like. Okay?" She spoke to her gently, with a voice even softer than the one both Artie and Britt realized she only used when Britt was feeling down.

"Okay. I am hungry. But what time is it? How long did I sleep? Did I miss classes?"

"You did, but Britt took care of it for you. You were marked as present and Artie has your homework for you. Ready to go? School is over though, do you need to call your dad's to tell them you won't be home right now?" Rachel sat up, smiling weakly at both Artie and Brittany before she shook her head.

"They won't really care. They'll only be angry because I'm not around to use as a pawn in their arguments and fights. I'd love to be away from that for a while if possible." Santana frowned, Climbing down from the bed before she helped Rachel down as well.

"Why didn't you say anything yesterday? You could have stayed in my guestroom or we could have found something fun to do. I know you like mini golf, we could have done that."

"I'm sorry."

"No, hey, Rae it's okay. Maybe we can go today. You two interested?"

"Totally! Artie's the best at putt putt!"

"Oh, Artie? I wasn't aware of that." He grinned.

"I think I'm pretty awesome, yea."

"Winner buys the loser ice cream?"

"Oh, Rachel, it is so on." The brunette beamed, the smile she always had whenever she felt included taking over her lips.

"There's a new place a town over that has amazing coconut milk ice cream, Rae. We can go there after. Britt'll like the triple peanut butter cup fudge and Artie can get on the Mango Gelato."

"This sounds like a fun night already!"

"I'm glad you think so, let's head out. I'll drive. I drove the suburban, so it'll be easy entry and exit for you, Art." Rachel jumped up and down, her excitement contagious enough to have Britt linking she and the shorter brunette's pinkies as they giggled and skipped their way out the front door.

"We have got some serious energizer bunnies on our hands, San."

"I have absolutely zero complaints and I know you don't either."

"Course not. She's fucking perfect. I would marry her if we weren't so young." Santana nodded, pushing hand through her dark hair to get it out of her eyes.

"If only thing's were different... If only she... Maybe things could be like that with us too." Artie stopped and pulled a slick maneuver, ending up with his chair in front of the Latina.

"Look at me, okay? You'll get your girl. The two of you deserve each other in all of the best ways, okay. Give it time, San."

"I hope you're right." Was all she could say, walking next to him when he turned to start rolling towards the doors again. When they got through them, they laughed. Rachel was up on Brittany's shoulders.

"Look how tall I am, Tana! Now I get to call you tiny!" The grinning girl yelled across the full parking lot. Attracting attention Santana could give less than no shits about. She sprinted over, pulling Rachel down from Britt's shoulders to spin her around in a few quick circles. She set her down gingerly, grinning as she pressed an absent-minded kiss against the star's forehead. She turned and watched as Britt lifted Artie into the Suburban, then put his chair in the back.

"Come on, _tiny_. Let's get you that pizza."

"I'm not that much smaller than you!" Her Estrella announced, stomping her foot with her hands on her hips.

"You're right, you aren't. But you're much more adorable, Rae. Anyway, I though you understood, it's a term of endearment. I love that you're just a little smaller than me." Rachel couldn't fight the smile on her lips, so she let it take over her face, stretching until it was a far more beautiful version of her famous Rachel Barbra Berry show smile.

"Okay. Ready to go?" San nodded, opening the passenger door and motioning for Rachel to go ahead and get in. She looked up at the admittedly jacked up and gigantic SUV, her lips curling downward as she contemplated how to get up there.

"It's a bit high for me too, want some help with getting in?

"Please?" Santana lifted her up quickly but safely by her waist until she was inside then closed the door before walking and climbing in on her side.

"Everybody ready to go?" Rachel and Brittany bounced in their seats, nodding their affirmative answers, so she looked back at Artie, who looked at her then just said.

"Engage." She laughed so hard she had to tap her chest a few times as she started the SUV and drove out of the parking lot.

"I love you so much right now dude. We're going as Trek character's next Halloween. I call B'Ellana ."

"Ooh, Ooh, I'll be Troi!"

"Rach? What about you?" Britt asked.

"I shall be Captain Kathryn Janeway."

"This is about to be so fucking awesome. Yo but what about Quinn? Seven of Nine?"Artie asked.

"Close. She called the borg queen after we saw First Contact for the first time."

"This is gonna be awesome. I know a website where we can order costumes to fit the three different ones in the movie and series."

"Dude we're gonna be the most bad ass crew ever. Oh, Mike will want in on this. He'll call Tuvok."

"What... what if we had a Trek themed Halloween party?"

"Seriously, Rachel, I don't think there are words to describe how much the three of us love you right now."

Rachel giggled, but Santana caught Britt's eyes in the mirror and shrugged. There was nothing she could say to deny the fact that Britt was right. Out of the three of them, it was her who truly come to realize that maybe she did love the gorgeous woman sitting next to her. But there was literally nothing that could be done about that. Right now she was Rachel's friend, and seeing as she'd hardly thought she'd ever be that lucky, pushing when her Estrella had already made it clear she wasn't interested was the last thing she intended to do.


End file.
